Everything Leaves
by Sardonic Kender Smile
Summary: She was going home. But Kent, she realized suddenly, was leaving his. “Are you certain?” she asked him softly, urgently...afraid of his answer. /KentxLyn/


**_Everything Leaves_**

Beneath the pearlescent light of the full moon, Lyn paced and shivered. It was with a tinge of resentment that she pulled her light cotton cloak more tightly about her shoulders—but a few weeks earlier, during the war against Nergal, she wouldn't even have noticed the cooling breeze. She supposed that her body had softened in Caelin as she traded her warrior's garb for a noblewoman's dress and her sword for a bottle of perfume. Sometimes, when she examined herself, her way of life on the plains seemed not the memory of two years earlier, but the dreamy half-snatches of a past life. Someone else's life.

_Someone crying, hanging onto a jet-black mane for dear life as its owner galloped beneath her, carrying her far away from the shouting voices and familiar figures, all hunched over in fear as fire leapt toward the sky—_

"Or perhaps I am simply blessed," she murmured to herself to break her train of thought as she tightened her grip on the pack she held in her hands, "having nothing more to trouble me than the wind of a summer night."

Still, her heart felt anxious. Incomplete. She glanced around herself as the breeze rustled the garden hedges and stirred the flowers at her feet. The castle gardens were abandoned but for her, yet every time the shifting leaves whispered, Lyn quickly turned her head to answer. Each time it was never the voice she sought, and each time Lyn was disappointed.

It reminded her a bit of her mother's voice, she realized. She used to dream of her, used to hear her soft lullabies in her sleep…but when she woke, she was always forced to remember that Madelyn was gone forever.

_Everything leaves._

Suddenly she heard a new sound, something distinct from the hissing of the garden. Lyn turned toward it, and as the wind caught the edges of her cloak and the hem of her dress, her eyes caught sight of a dark mass hurtling toward her.

She watched its approach though calm eyes and a raised chin, standing her ground. Soon the mass shifted into the recognizable forms of a horse and rider, with another horse harnessed to and running alongside the first one. Horses clattered to a stop on the cobblestones right before Lyn and the rider fluidly dismounted before his steed had even stopped moving. He was an imposing figure, hooded and cloaked in black, a few inches taller than Lyn although she was already a tall woman. He removed his leather riding gloves and stuffed them through his belt before pushing back his dark hood. The shadows covering his face fled and she recognized him instantly, despite the fact that the shine of moonlit red hair would have given him away in any case.

"I am sorry to have kept you waiting," he murmured.

"Not at all," she replied, and only then realized that she had dropped her pack and her hands were now stretched out, palm-up, waiting for him. He took a hurried stride toward her, but hesitated, and his next step was slower and smaller. His eyes sought her own, seeking permission, so she made the next move--quickly closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around his neck, revelling in the feeling of his arms as they surrounded her in turn.

"I'm so glad to see you, Kent," she breathed, only paying half-attention to what she was saying. She was too busy taking in the solidness of his chest against hers, the impressive breadth of his shoulders, the large hands running up and down the length of her back. Everything about him radiated strength, and she grasped at the comfort of it for a long moment.

_A hulking Taliver man was approaching, making her muscles spasm with fear, and her attempt to lift a sword against him was useless, so useless—_

She was a strong woman. She knew that, she was proud of that, and she would be happy to fight anyone who wanted to dispute that. And yet…sometimes it felt good to feel another's strength. Just once in a while.

"I am glad as well, Lyndis," he murmured into her hair. She smiled and pulled back slightly, wanting to look into his eyes…

…And his lips suddenly descended hard upon hers. She gasped with surprise but he already had a hand in her hair, holding the back of her head, so the sharp exhalation echoed only within his mouth. A strange shock of adrenaline sparked in her blood at his sudden aggressiveness, blue fire crackling in her veins, and before she knew it her stomach was plummeting to somewhere below her knees.

Kent was never like this with her, never anything but gentle and careful…but, Lyn supposed, he was a man after all, and doubtlessly thought like one from time to time. That thought sent another thrill through her, however, and before she knew it she had grabbed his face and was kissing him with an even greater passion than he had dared. A soft moan sounded deep in his throat, his turn to be surprised, and his fingers left her hair to explore her shoulders and back and sides. Lyn let the kiss continue until she felt her lungs start to burn, but when she finally wrenched her mouth from his her heartstrings strained against her ribcage in protest. With a deep sigh, Kent pulled her in a tight embrace against his chest, where she could feel it heaving in time with her own.

Lyn felt almost dizzy with the awe of it—such sharp tingles still remained. Where did they come from? How could the lips of this man elicit such a strong response from her? She looked up at him then, lips trembling, almost expecting another kiss, but instead found that his face was grave and his eyes were dark and impassive.

"Kent?" she asked softly.

"I am sorry," he whispered after a long moment. His hand moved to gently brush her bangs from her eyes. "Was that…too much?"

Lyn felt herself grin. "Absolutely not."

"You're sure?" He had relaxed slightly at the sight of her smile, but his face was still very tense. "Your breathing…the look on your face…"

"It's _fine_," she assured him. "It's just…realizing that…this is it."

His lips grazed her temple in a light kiss before he spoke into her ear:  
"Are you certain that this is what you want to do?"

"I've been certain for a long time," she insisted. Rather than meeting his eyes, she looked up at the stars as she made her declaration. Father Sky could attest to her honesty; she needed to prove it to no one else.

She was going home.

But Kent, she realized suddenly, was _leaving_ his.

_Flying away on the back of a terrified horse, sobbing with her long hair in her mouth, away and away and away until her steed was foaming and she had no more tears to cry--_

After her grandfather's peaceful death, Lyn now had nothing left for her in Caelin.

_Everything leaves._

The castle and the crown meant nothing to her, absolutely _nothing_ compared to the long grasses and endless skies of Sacae. But everything Kent knew and owned and understood was here…pine trees, stables, clothes and manners, Sain and his other comrades, his very _knighthood._ He was forsaking all of these things to follow her, and although she knew that his choice was born of his feelings, she couldn't help but feel bad.

"Are _you_ certain?" she asked him softly, urgently.

It pleased her that he hesitated before he spoke—she didn't want him making any rash decisions, although "rash" was possibly the last word she could use to describe him. Finally he looked into her eyes and smiled.

"Of course I'm certain, Lyndis," he whispered. His fingers were at her chin then, lifting it gently until her lips met his again. She pulled away.

"You won't…you won't want to come back here?" she asked him, more urgently.

Kent's mouth tightened at the corners as he glanced around himself. Lyn knew that all the things she had just gotten to know—the scent of the garden, the constellations in the sky—he had already been familiar with for years.

"My lady…"

"Are you sure you can leave all this forever?" she continued, feeling as if her words were sharp bile, pouring from her mouth even though she did not want to speak them. She was afraid of his answer. "You'll never want to leave Sacae? To come back home?"

_Hassan, smiling, dark hair glinting in the sun—_

_Everything leaves._

_Madelyn, humming, preparing a fire in the ger—_

_Everything leaves._

_Kent, her dearest Kent, dismounting in disbelief in Bulgar, taking a step toward her with his hand slightly outstretched, numbly asking if he'd met her before._

_Everything—_

"Home?" Kent asked, breaking her thoughts once more. His gaze was almost incredulous as it settled upon hers. "But…Lyndis…you _are_ my home."

Her memories suddenly melted in a blur, collapsing around her feet as if they had been raindrops suspended in the air, suddenly affected by time once more.

It was not Sacae that mattered, she realized then. That was not what she had been afraid of losing…not her parents, her childhood, her culture…Sacae was not what loss meant.

The only thing she had to lose was the man standing directly in front of her, the man with horses and saddlebags for their great flight into the free night.

For their elopement.

Lyn threw herself at Kent, hugging him tightly, and he snaked his arms around her waist in turn although he seemed slightly confused.

"Let's go," she whispered. "Let's go right now."

Without a word, he immediately led her to her horse, gripping her hand to help her mount even though he knew she was very good with horses.

"No," she said softly, suddenly. "Can we keep this one tied to yours? I would rather ride with you for a while."

"As milady wishes."

Before she could protest, he lifted her into the saddle of his horse with a burst of strength and then quickly dismounted behind her. He held the reins with one hand, and she felt the warmth of his other arm wind around her waist. Without any hesitation he kicked his horse into a gallop, and the two fled off through the garden.

Lyn looked back at the castle, dark and cavernous save for one or two candle-lit windows. There was nothing inside, she knew…

_Empty like Hausen's room on the day she dreaded most, without him in the bed, his worn face no longer there to lighten at the sight of her._

_Everything leaves._

She was leaving too, she knew, leaving the castle and all the nothingness it held for her, leaving with her love.

_Everything leaves._

_But that doesn't mean it's gone,_ she told herself, feeling herself smile before she tilted her face up to kiss Kent on the cheek.

* * *

_A/N: Critique would be very nice, if you have any =D._


End file.
